Hope of Earth (45 page)

“I’m no hero,” he protested. “I just did what I had to do.”

“Same thing,” she said. “Get in the wagon.”

Now they had new horses and a new guardian force, and rode by day, making good time. But it was nevertheless a tedious daylong trip. They halted only for rest stops. The princess questioned Bry about his family, and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. They also snoozed some more.

In the afternoon they reached the region of the Nabataean capital city of Petra. Bry had not been there before, and was interested, because he had heard that it was a city of amazing splendor. The princess drew aside the curtains so that he could goggle all he wanted. She evidently enjoyed his anticipation.

They were surrounded by towering cliffs of many-colored rock, the bands showing red, yellow, white, and mauve. But that was only the beginning. The way narrowed, with the rock rising up on either side as they followed a winding wadi, where a river ran when there was rain but disappeared in normal times.

“I told them to enter by the east, through the Wadi Musa,” the princess said. “So as to provide the most impressive tour.”

The wadi deepened and narrowed, becoming a gorge. “This is the Bab as-Siq,” Aretania said. “Oh, it’s so good to be home!”

The gorge became alarmingly deep and close, with the walls towering almost vertically on either side. In some places the rock actually leaned out over the road. Bry was afraid some rock would dislodge and crash down to crush them. The walls were sculptured by nature, forming crude patterns that could be taken as statues or arches. A channel had been cut into the south base, where water flowed. He could see only a short distance forward or back, because of the continuing curving.

Then it grew so tight there was barely room for the wagon to pass, and the guards had to ride before and after. The slanting sunlight no longer penetrated; they were in deep shadow. Still it squeezed in, until it seemed they would have to stop, lest the wagon get stuck between the closing walls. He found himself shivering, though it was not cold. He didn’t like the feeling that it could all collapse inward on his head.

“Look ahead,” the princess said, enjoying his unease.

Bry looked, and saw a narrow vertical line of light extending from the bottom of the gorge upward to the sky. Then they made a turn, and the gorge opened out to reveal a truly splendid monument. It was two stories high, with six tall stone columns on each level, and intricate carvings between them. It was built against the mountain wall, and steps led to an antechamber within the mountain. Further steps led beyond it into the dark interior.

“This is Al-Khazneh, the Pharaoh’s Treasury,” Aretania said, “because of the vast treasure contained in the urn at the top. It is said that he who breaks open that urn will reap a showering harvest of gold and silver coins.”

“Is that true?” Bry asked, staring up at the huge stone urn.

“It is true that it is said,” she replied with a faint smile. “We arrange not to investigate too closely, lest the gods be annoyed and drop the urn on our heads.”

Bry could appreciate the concern. He could also appreciate the usefulness of the legend. Many folk would come to see the urn, and they would bring business to the city. But it was definitely carved stone, not a real urn. It looked to be more than twice the height of a man in itself. Only a god could actually use an urn of that magnitude.

“Actually it’s a monument to my ancestor, King Aretas III,” she continued after a pause. “His coffin is there.”

“Was he the one who conquered Damascus?” Bry asked, surprised.

“Yes. He imported Damascan artisans to craft this monument, which is unlike the others in our city.”

“I am awed,” he said candidly.

“Would you like to go inside?” the princess asked as they drew abreast of it.

“Yes! But is it allowed? I mean, if his coffin is in there—”

“For me, it is allowed. I am of his blood, and I have nothing but respect.”

“But don’t you want to get home as fast as possible?”

“This is home.” But she looked pensive, and he realized that she could be concerned about her reception. She had evidently failed in her marriage, and her father might not be pleased. So she was taking the pretense of obliging Bry’s curiosity, to delay her arrival a bit.

The wagon stopped, they got down, and walked up the three steps between the central pillars to the vestibule. The two guards bowed, recognizing the right of the princess and her servant girl to enter. There were large door-frames to either side, with smaller (but still large) wooden doors. The central steps led up to another doorway. This one was huge; the frame was quadruple the height of a grown man. The guards quickly pulled open the doors and lit torches so that the interior could be seen.

Bry had thought it would be “shallow, because carving chambers out of rock was no easy thing, but it was a full-sized square room a dozen paces across, with three more alcoves off its walls. The one farthest in contained an altar three steps up, in front of a great stone coffin. Aretania went to this and kneeled, bowing her head. Then she stood and dropped a gold coin on the altar. She was giving thanks to the gods for her deliverance. And perhaps also to her ancestor, after whom she had evidently been named.

Bry turned away, not wanting to intrude on this private matter. He looked at the painted walls, discovering all manner of carvings and statuary. The interior and exterior of this grand temple contained every kind of representation, including dancing Amazons, eagles, sphinxes, lions, satyrs, and other animals. His eyes shied away from the snaky-locked Medusa, lest her stone stare transform him to stone, and lingered on the bare breasts of human priestesses. This was a marvelous monument.

Aretania turned away from the alcove and came to join him. “I think it will be all right,” she said. “My ancestor would not have approved the treatment I received in Galilee.”

“Surely not,” he agreed.

They left the monument and returned to the wagon. The princess’s step seemed lighter now; she had received reassurance. The wagon turned north, then northwest, where an enormous semicircular arena opened out against the western slope. “Oh, my!” Bry exclaimed, awed.

“This is the main theater,” the princess said with justified pride. “It seats three thousand people. We have some of the finest spectacles in the world here.”

It was surely so, for nothing less would justify such a magnificent setting. A huge colonnaded building closed off the semicircle, where the personnel and displays were housed, and they led onto a raised stage area. It was easy to imagine a huge crowd filling the theater, cheering as the show was put on.

“I will command your presence, next time there is a show,” Aretania said. “You will be my guest, in the reserved section in the first row.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“You won’t have to be a girl, for that.”

“Thank you, Princess.” That had indeed been his concern.

Then they moved north again, passing a number of lesser tombs. They finally emerged from the gorge to reveal the broad expanse of the central city of Petra in its phenomenal splendor.

Bry’s head turned from side to side as he tried to take it all in. On to the northeast a fantastic array of tombs were built into the mountain face; to the west the city itself nestled in the bowl-like hollow of the mountains. There were houses dotting the slopes, and larger structures in the center. He was awed all over again.

They turned west and rode into the busy city. The main street had been cleared, but the people were thronging to see the returning princess. Bry tried to fade into invisibility, but could not avoid the cynosure. “Wave to them,” Aretania said mischievously. But he knew better, and sat as still as he could, while she smiled and waved to the onlookers.

“There is the Colonnaded Street,” she said, indicating a row of tall columns ahead. The street ran right along beside the columns, and it was paved with clean stone blocks. “And up ahead is the market section.” He saw countless stalls set within the shelter of the open structures, with their wares laid out enticingly. The smells of breads and meats wafted across to them. He discovered he was hungry; they had not eaten much during the day.

“There is the palace,” Aretania continued, pointing out an impressive structure on the north side. “We will go there to meet my father, after the tour.”

“But don’t you want to see him first?” Bry asked.

A shadow crossed her face. “These things must follow the proper form.” He realized that she still was not certain of her welcome. Her rejection by King Herod of Galilee could cause much political mischief.

“There are the public baths,” she said, shaking off the mood as she pointed ahead and to the south. “You won’t have to take one of those, either, right now.”

“Thank you.” It was bad enough being in such a public eye, but worse being taken for a girl.

She turned to the north. “The Temple of the Winged Lions, up there on the slope. We shall have to go there, too, another day.”

“We?”

She gave him a serious glance. “You saved my life, Bry;I want to show my appreciation.” Before he could try to protest again, she added: “You understand my situation; I value your support. I regard you as a friend. I will not keep you long, just a few days. Until things settle down.”

He appreciated her moment of candor. She had known him only a few days, but they had been together in Galilee and for the journey south; he was a witness to her activities. He could support what she had to tell her father. “Of course, Princess.”

“And the Tenenos Gate,” she continued as they passed through a massive portal girt by four enormous clusters of columns, some with flat contours, others rounded. Stone carvings traveled up those contours to the lintel above. “Leading into the Sacred Courtyard.”

The sounds of the city faded as they moved through that courtyard. This was lined with impressive sculptures of every description. There were the busts of gods, both bearded men and clear-faced women. There were eagles with wings outspread, and griffins, and a sphinx, and pediments with full human figures, including bare-breasted women of inhuman perfection. It was also a garden area, with nicely shaped trees and bushes. “The gods surely come here to relax,” Bry murmured.

“They surely do,” Aretania agreed. “Certainly I do. But now we are coming to the greatest of temples, the Qasr al-Bint.”

This was indeed the most magnificent of the free-standing buildings he had seen here. It was at the end of the court, and was about thirty paces on a side, and similarly high. About a dozen broad steps led up to its base, where four enormous pillars supported its roof.

“Close your mouth,” Aretania murmured. “The gods already know it is awesome.”

Bry closed his mouth. “It’s so big,” he said.

“My grandfather Obodas built it. It took twenty years and depleted the treasury, but it was worth it. Now we shall say a prayer at the altar, then go to the palace; I think the tour of the temple will have to wait.”

They mounted the steps of the open-air altar that stood before the temple, and the princess bowed her head and gave another gold coin as an offering. Bry didn’t have any gold or even silver, so he gave what he had, a copper coin, embarrassed.

“The gods don’t judge by the material value so much as the spirit of the supplicant,” Aretania said. “I’m sure your spirit is good.”

“I hope so.”

They returned to the wagon, and now rode to the palace. Now it was dusk, and the market place was clearing. A separate honor guard emerged to escort the princess inside. Bry tried to hang back, but she signaled him imperiously forward, and he had to follow her. “Just stay two steps behind me, and stop when I stop, eyes downcast. Don’t say anything; just be there.”

That was about all he was capable of doing. He had never expected to meet the king himself.

The guards formed a square around them. They marched as a unit into the palace. At least Bry didn’t have to go; all he had to do was stay in his place in the formation, and try not to trip over his skirts.

They mounted the steps and passed the columns of the entrance. Inside were more steps, and an anteroom, and a great hall. Therein, on his grand stone throne, sat King Aretas. Bry kept his eyes downcast, but was able to sneak peeks past his eyelashes.

The king stared at the princess for some time before speaking. Bry could see her shaking; he knew she was afraid of her father. She was afraid she had brought shame on him. She was afraid of his wrath.

Finally the king spoke. “It is an outrage!” he exclaimed.

Aretania’s head bowed lower. “I am sorry, Father. I tried my best to—”

“Yes, I know.” He looked around. “I am going to do two things. First the one who brought me this ill news. Where is the foreign sailor?”

“I am here, Your Majesty.” It was Captain Ittai’s voice. Bry was startled; he hadn’t realized that the man was present. There was a woman behind him: Jes.

“You are hereby granted citizenship in Nabataea. You may choose an estate to possess, and your wife and family are granted tenure to share it with you. Where is the boy who carried the message to my daughter?”

There was a pause. Bry couldn’t speak up! Then Aretania turned. “Here, Sire.” She indicated Bry.

“But I was told—”

“I required him to don female garb, Sire, so he could guide me home without suspicion.”

The king stared at Bry. Then he burst out laughing. “Good work, boy! You have earned your family favor in this court. Take this in partial token of that favor.” He brought out a small purse and handed it to a courtier, who walked to Bry and presented it.

Bry knew the moment he hefted it that it was filled with gold; nothing else had such heft. “I—thank you, Your Majesty.”

But the king was already turning to other business. “Second, I am going to punish Herod for this treachery to my daughter and affront to the Kingdom of Nabataea. That miscreant will learn to respect my disfavor. This hearing is ended.”

The courtiers bowed and backed away. The princess was starting to do the same, when the king signaled her with a slight twitch of his fingers. Then his eye caught Bry’s, and his fingers twitched again. So Bry followed the princess forward.